Desperate Dreams Poem by Peter Vealey

Through a glass object
Drunk on life, yet
Stuttering on delusions.
How the still dusk betrays
Cold dawns and long lost hopes,
Through dangling fears
And fallen decisions.
Upon the clutch of
Desperate dreams.
Where does tomorrow end
And today begin?
Reversed through inevitability
Shadows of fallen gods
Tiresome idols
Running triumphantly
Free,
On a world lost of cause
The glass is still,
Moving
Yet always a fragile object
Of Desire.